


frequency relay

by blotthis, mellific



Category: This Is New Gehesran Calling - Rebecca Fraimow (Short Story)
Genre: F/F, Getting Together, Illustrations, Multi, Post-Canon, Yuletide Madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blotthis/pseuds/blotthis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellific/pseuds/mellific
Summary: “But it’s hard to let go of a record,” saGorresil said, finally. A tour group’s bright voices floated through the door. “... Just in case.”saRehainel, Tekasi.Somehow, We’re Live: Refugee Radio, and What Came After. “Chapter 11: Tune in Next Time.” 287.
Relationships: Ereni (This Is New Gehesran Calling)/Viana saBrihesi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 15
Collections: Yuletide Madness 2020





	frequency relay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ryfkah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryfkah/gifts).



> _This is New Gehesran, signing off._
> 
> The tape crackled to a stop, saBrihesi's parting nearly buried in static, and saGorresil lifted the cassette out of the player with gentle tenderness—like a gardener, inspecting new-grown leaves. The tapes, relics of her teenage years, were something like a luxury, she acknowledged, inasmuch as that word could apply to an archive. The museum had, of course, already digitized them, and there were better copies in storage from the station itself. “Brun was very adamant that everything be recorded hard copy,” she said. “It was a strain on the station's budget, I think, but we’re very grateful. It was good of him to think ahead.” 
> 
> She traced the tape’s inscription with a finger. _Love, Suki & Tir_. “But it’s hard to let go of a record,” saGorresil said, finally. A tour group’s bright voices floated through the door. “... Just in case.” 

saRehainel, Tekasi. _Somehow, We’re Live: Refugee Radio, and What Came After_.

“Chapter 11: Tune in Next Time.” 287.

***

**Image description:** A leather-bound journal folded open, with a pen laying across it. The pen is attached to the stand with a red wire. There is a strip of paper reading "PLEASE SIGN guest book" taped above the book. The page is titled "Visitors", with the following entries:

"I grew up listening to NGC and other off-station shows—loved the Silver Dream Romances especially. Who knew that I'd end up on the other end, writing for drama serials? Thank you! -D"

"Fantastic! Definitely the best version of the best Geti sketch. We loved it!"

"I learned a lot about radio relays in class, however, I learned a lot here today too. - Lina

"music is TOO LOUD"

***

The person at the front of the classroom looks weirdly familiar. Iri pauses, squinting, trying not to be too obvious, and Teka pushes against their back. “The fuck, Iri? _Move_.” 

Then the person opens their mouth. “Sorry,” they say to Prof. baTuureni, rubbing the back of their neck. “I know you were expecting Viana.” 

Their voice is—kind of scratchy. Vocal fry. Midtones otherwise, well. Little resonance. A slight nasal drift—a careful punch on the lower hz, to even it out? Might be overkill—it’s developed a bit of a quaver, too, in the past decades. Nothing to do about that. It’s kind of nice, actually. People like to hear what a voice’s been through. Where it came from. 

It’s nothing like Viana saBrihesi’s rolling melodies. Never has been. 

“Gods outside,” Iri breathes. 

“ _What_ ,” Teka hisses, and Iri remembers that they are, in fact, standing in the doorway to “Culture in Calamity: Autoarchive in Diaspora,” and make a break for the back of the room. They find a seat, easy. They’re early. They’re always early. This is their second-favorite class. They sit. They take out their recorder and their notes. They load up the reading. They try to figure out what their face is doing. 

Teka slides in next to them. “What,” she says, “are we doing back here.” Iri knows she’s making fun of them. Total flatline of a sentence. 

They always sit at the front. 

“Teka,” Iri says helplessly. “Teka.” 

“Iri,” Teka repeats. “Iri.” Oh, she’s having fun now. _Jerk_ , Iri thinks fondly, and takes a breath.

“Teka,” Iri tries again, and attempts to discreetly point at the front of the room. “That’s _Ereni saKatoren_.” 

Teka’s mouth twitches, but she turns to look. SaKatoren looks smaller, from here. Safely distant. Her lean against baTuureni’s desk looks—tired. Her skin is thinner than in the few, old photos Iri’s seen. But she laughs at something he says, and the lines in her cheeks look well-worn. 

“And who’s that?” 

Teka’s doing it again, but Iri cannot help themselves. “Ereni saKatoren?” they whisper. “Ereni? saKatoren? She _ran soundboard_ for NGC, Tek, she took the _first_ _call_ , gods—she pioneered _so many interstellar radio techniques—_ ” Iri is _too loud_ , they can hear it, the room is not full of enough bodies for real dampening—did saKatoren just _look at them_ —

“Oh!” Teka says. “Right! Oh, that’s cool.” She bounces a little in her seat, beaming towards the front of the room. “Fuck, I love this class.”

Iri loves her, but she has _got_ to stop looking at saKatoren. 

Teka turns back to Iri, thoughtfully. “Wonder how baTuureni knows her. Did he ever work on NGC—?” Teka pauses. “You… okay?” 

“I have to ask her everything,” Iri moans, and buries their head in their arms. “I can’t. I have to. I can't! Oy, Tek,” they say, suddenly, “this isn’t engineering—you think baTuureni will mind if I ask about the relay stations? How they _developed_ them? And, flip me anchorless, how she managed the call-in frequencies with that _equipment_ —it’s not really on-topic...” 

Iri trails off. Teka's looking at them thoughtfully. 

“I don’t know, but you should definitely ask,” she says. “He likes you. You want her autograph?”

Iri makes a noise they’d be hard-pressed to describe. 

Teka grins.

***

**Image description:** A sheet of college-ruled notebook paper, frayed at the edges and folded in half. Scrawled along the top is a bulleted list of notes, partially obscured, reading: 

"- relays + receivers -> needed tech at the other end -> distribution??

\- 2nd generation hw.

\- just a signal transform!"

The bottom part of the page is taken up by a circuit diagram and partially worked-out equations. A note in the bottom right corner, in a different pen, reads: "IRI: THANKS FOR THE QUESTIONS. -E" Below, the same pen has circled an equation and written "(YOU DROPPED THE COEFFICIENT)".

***

(MUSIC SOUNDBITE)

saBRIHESI: I’m Viana saBrihesi, and this is _New Gehesran Calling_. Here with me today is a familiar voice, Arker baRahenna, host of our engineering segment, “Doing It Wrong with Arker baRahenna.” In addition to answering questions about your DIY projects, he helped NGC start our call-in segment by doing some DIY of his own. 

So, Arker. Why did you keep calling back? Why not simply send a letter? 

ARKER baRAHENNA: Well, Ereni told me to, didn't she? ( _Laughs._ )

saBRIHESI: Yes...yes, but, "Not like this." We just heard her. She was very explicit. 

baRAHENNA: ( _Laughs_.) Yeah, she was, wasn't she? I don't know. Partly—I’d made the flipped thing, and it took hours, getting that relay together, and I wanted to use it, you know? 

saBRIHESI: Sure. 

baRAHENNA: And...well. ( _Laughs_.) It made me laugh? Sorry! It did. Ereni is very funny—as you know—I mean. 

Reni, please don’t turn off my mic.

saBRIHESI: ( _Chuckles._ ) That’s Ereni saKatoren, our sound engineer, the other brain behind Calling New Gehesren’s call-in-relay, and the other voice on the clip. She is riding the board for this interview, and refused to participate. 

baRAHENNA: Not even when I begged! Said I talk enough for two people! 

saBRIHESI: Her prerogative, Arker.

baRAHENNA: Seniority! I’m _twice her age_! But yes, okay. ( _Whispers_.) She’s gesturing at me to get on with it through the window. But she won’t cut me off because she is a professional.

I _did_ try to time it between sections, but sometimes the delay was ... not great. 

saBRIHESI: You did once interrupt one of my interviews with the General. 

baRAHENNA: Oh _right_! That time. Ereni was frantic. "We're working on it! _Please_ get off the frequency!"

saBRIHESI: And you didn't. 

baRAHENNA: Well. No. Are you still mad at me? ( _Laughs._ ) No. I tried to ask about dort root again, or when the gardening expert would be back, or something—maybe that was the time I brought up the relay, actually—and she said something like, _VIANA IS INTERVIEWING, PLEASE CALL BACK LATER_ , which, _to be fair_ , Vi, she did ask me to call back again. 

saBRIHESI: So she did. And it _was_ when you brought up the relay. I had to assure the General that not everyone with a home radio and an antenna could hack into the broadcast, with no proof beyond that you were the only one who had done it.

baRAHENNA: You _are_ still mad at me. Viana. It’s been years! He’s retired! He’s not doing interviews, you can’t still be mad at me.

saBRIHESI: So he is. And I’ll thank you to not tell me what I can and can’t do, Arker. 

( _Laughter_.)

saBRIHESI: We had quite a conversation after that call, actually. Ereni fixated on what you said about relays, and spent—weeks, it seemed to me—working out how you might’ve jumped into ours, and how that might be a way forward for others. 

baRAHENNA: Oh, right! I was so excited when she reached out! Tracked me down. _Clever_ girl.

Which is the other thing. Well, one of the other things. I think—about the calling. I felt—a part of the show? A troublemaking part, but, a part. A potential. You worked so hard to be good... It _was_ good. I don't know. I never felt bad about it. About interrupting. It felt like a... Like building something. Like something wanted.

saBRIHESI: ( _A laugh, half-stifled_.) Ereni certainly did. ( _A breath._ ) Even from the beginning. Even when we didn't know how to do it, mechanically, or if it was even possible. 

baRAHENNA: ( _A pause._ ) Yeah. Yeah. When she said “call back” that first time—I knew. I knew it would be great. If I kept calling, you—we—would have to figure out how to take the call. How to take _other_ people’s calls. I couldn’t let it be put off. I had to keep pushing. I think that is something that I’ve really taken from this experience, Vi—even at my age—you can make things, and you can share them. Doesn’t sound like much, maybe, but...

saBRIHESI: But? 

baRAHENNA: But—oh, I don’t know. Don’t _interview_ me, Vi, you work here too, you know what I mean. You _started_ it. 

saBRIHESI: ( _Half laughed._ ) I think I know what you mean. But not everyone listening might. I’d love to hear how you’d say it.

baRAHENNA: You are so flipping good at your job. Really gets me every time, you know that? God, it’s so hard to believe this is all— ( _Deep breath_.)

It might not sound like a lot. I’d have to be a psych, or a poet, maybe, to explain what it is. But the making, you know, it takes you outside your skin. Puts a physical thing in the world. A real, physical thing. And the sharing—that, that— _damn!_ Vi, I don’t have the words—it puts—it’s like. The sharing puts something _else_ in the world. Not a physical thing, but it’s got... Like you and this other person are now in the same room. Like. _More potential_. Like, _together_ , it might never stop. Does that make sense? 

saBRIHESI: Yeah. Arker. Yeah. It does. 

baRAHENNA: My siblings’ kids listen to this. It feels essential. It feels like the most important thing in the world.

( _A pause, barely there._ )

saBRIHESI: For those tuning in, I’m Viana saBrihesi, and this is _New Gehesran Calling_. I’m with Arker baRahenna, host of Doing It Wrong with Arker baRahenna, and one of the architects of the system that makes Calling New Gehesren, our call in show, possible. We’re talking with our various hosts today, for our final broadcast.

You said that was _one_ of the reasons you kept calling back. What was the other?

baRAHENNA: Oh! Well. I wanted an answer to my question, didn't I?

***

**Image description:** A browser window with a collection of YouTube-style comments:

Briniii82 1 day ago (edited)  
Can anyone tell me where to get the scarf she was wearing at the beginning of the video?

Mira saBrunna 1 day ago  
[2:18] Is that New Gehesran Calling in the background? Great taste.

JUST_ARI 10 hours ago  
throwback!! my grandma loves ngc hahaha

Ziran morvheni 10 hours ago  
Much better than the mindless junk on the air today.

View 132 replies

tktk2 1 hour ago  
OMG. EVERYONE. CALL YOUR GRANDFOLK!! i called my grandma like you all said to and she started? telling me? about the evacuation? and this one girl she... [Read more]

Seren baHesi 4 hours ago (edited)  
I love the old stuff. Is the 'net great or what? I used to have a collection of nearly a decade of show recordings on reels of tape and took meticulous care of it. Now I can just search for Gehesrani music in the archives and find all of that and more...

***

_Hey, Viana, it’s Ereni. Why did I have to hear from Lor you’d been in Sansen? You don’t have time for me anymore, bigwig?_

_Hi. Ereni. Hi. It’s Viana. Sorry I missed you. I mean, now, I’m sorry I missed you, but—when I visited. It was a work trip. I came in on the highspeed and left the next day. I didn’t know if—sorry, I—sorry. I’m getting another call, I’ll let you know next time I’m in town—_

_Calm the fuck down and stop apologizing. Viana. What the fuck. That was horrible to listen to. Call me later. I get off at Zan Zoresh 12 hour._

_Oh shit,_ what _time is it? Gods_ unanchored _—_

_So, Vi, hey. I got assigned to a conference in ZZC in a couple of weeks. Figure I can ditch at least an afternoon of panels, you can show me around the promenade. I mean, I will, regardless. Fuck academia! But you should come._

_Hey, Reni. It’s Vi. I know you won’t get this till you’re back in Sansen. But it was good to see you. Glad your project’s going well. Sorry about your manager, but it sounds like you’re handling him well. Hope your plants aren’t dead. …… Call me when you get this?_

_Oh, good, you’re asleep. ‘Call me when you get this.’ Dumbass. … Sleep well. Talk to you tomorrow._

***

**Image description:** A child's worksheet with one corner folded and a crease along the bottom. Printed text at the top reads "Draw Your Story" above a rectangle, followed by a series of kindergarten-ruled lines. The drawing depicts two figures standing on top of a rocket ship among bright yellow stars. One is brandishing a sword at large tentacles approaching their ship. The text below, in careful handwriting, reads: "Viana and Ereni fight the monster in there pirate ship The Dolfin Breathes Fire. They use soards to beat it and then they fly away."

***

> “I’ll take you out back,” Ereni saKatoren said as she hung up my coat. “Viana’s already out there.” SaKatoren’s attitude was brisk, but not unwelcoming, the attitude of someone aware of time, of that resource’s limits, and who had accepted that it was, right now, dedicated to you. She led me through a sitting room, (green sofa, books and tablets of both paper and electronic varieties, black and white blanket, large wooden clock), lingered slightly in the well-appointed kitchen (butter-yellow mixer, jar of honey, plates in the sink, several appliances I am not enough of chef to recognize), to pick up a tray carrying three glasses and a pitcher of a pale liquid—lemonade? a very light tea?—and bumped a screen door open with her hip. 
> 
> A flood of light. She paused, holding the door open with a foot, the pitcher turned supernova by the sun. She tilted her head for me to follow and I did. 
> 
> Outside, the garden buzzed, in the way of live gardens: bees and other insect-life; the subtle susurration of things growing; air passing in and out of tiny stomata. It wasn’t a small garden, but not a large one, either; a series of square raised beds, carefully labelled in a neat hand. Tomatoes. Marigolds. Dort. 
> 
> Viana saBrihesi, seated at a small garden table, stood when she saw us coming and reached for the tray. “Right on time, saRehainel.” Her voice, for those curious, is even _moreso_ in person.
> 
> “Unlike some people... Vi, sit down,” said saKatoren. “Sit down. I’ve got it.” 
> 
> Once we’d made our introductions and chatted about the weather, saBrihesi poured me a glass. It _was_ lemonade. It’d been a while since I last drank lemonade, but it’d been a while since I last heard Viana saBrihesi on the radio, so it felt fitting. If somewhat indulgent to think so. 
> 
> SaKatoren smirked at me, like she’d noticed my nostalgia. She must be used to people mooning, at least slightly, over her partner. “So,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “You’re here for the story.” 
> 
> “Yes,” I said, and put the glass down. We’d emailed—rather extensively. They knew what I was there for, and why; they’d made the invitation. “You should come by,” saBrihesi wrote. “Nothing wrong with a written interview, but you’ll find something you didn’t think of.” 
> 
> “Yes,” I said again, and set my recorder on the table. “I’d love if you could start at the beginning. Whose idea was _New Gehesran_?” 
> 
> They both began speaking at once. 
> 
> “Vi’s. She’ll say it wasn’t, but it was.” 
> 
> “Well, you could say Brun’s, but it goes back farther to—Reni! It was not.”
> 
> “It’s true!”
> 
> “Do not listen to her. It was not my idea. I didn’t even get involved until Geti and Tor and Ereni were already on board.” 
> 
> “Okay. Technically. _Technically._ That’s true, if you call ‘hey, Ereni’s good at,’” and here saKatoren waved her arms expressively. “‘Could we do a radio show?’ while stoned and sobbing out of our minds ‘ _on board_.’ I know. You think I’m blinded by love.” She rolled her eyes. “So. Viana’s right. It wasn’t her idea. Objectively. But I’m righter. It didn’t exist till she thought about it.” 
> 
> “I don’t think you’re _blinded by love_ .... Well,” she said, contemplatively. “Well, a little.” (SaKatoren: “Ha!”) “The thing is— _nothing comes from one person,_ and NGC certainly didn’t come from me. Ereni forgets that, because she was so often the only person in the booth. She still thinks self-reliance is real. Look at this garden! But. Where did something come from? SaRehainel—can I call you Teka? Iri always calls you Teka—You should know the answer is never, ever simple.” 
> 
> “I’d be delighted. And I do,” I said. “Know that. I do. But I’d love to hear how you tell it.” 
> 
> SaKatoren burst into loud laughter. “Yeah, Vi,” she said. “Let’s hear you tell it.”

saRehainel, Tekasi. _Somehow, We’re Live: Refugee Radio, and What Came After_.

“Chapter 1: Today, Have We Got an Exclusive.” 11.

***

**Image description:** A collection of five polaroids scattered across a table. Clockwise, they are: a photo of a raised bed on paving stones, filled with fresh dirt. It is labelled "DAY 1" in blocky letters. A photo of a raised bed overflowing with greenery. It is labelled "day 42" in flowing script. A photo of a raised bed with a trellis on one end and small green shoots poking out of the dirt. It is labelled "14". A mostly obscured photo of white flowers and a bumblebee, reading "DAY 62". In the center is a photo of clasped hands, reaching between the armrests of two chairs. In the background, sunlight pours through the garden greenery.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to our beta. Sorry to not be able to deliver on all your great suggestions. 
> 
> Happy yuletide, ryfkah.


End file.
